


wished upon parallel lines

by pendules



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In which they go to a performing arts school, Liam is a piano genius, and Zayn has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wished upon parallel lines

It's the kind of sound he associates with grand halls, tuxedos, bowties, and polite but tremendous applause. It's really not the kind of thing he'd be attracted to. At least not usually. This sound though, it leads him down the slightly darkened hallways. And he doesn't know what he expected, but it's not this.

It's just a boy. One boy. 

Zayn can only see his back. He has brown hair, pretty disheveled like he's just rolled out of bed (or more likely he's been here since he woke up this morning). He's wearing a dark red hoodie, and his head is bent over the piano, his fingers moving over the keys in that confident, graceful way only a true expert's can... And Zayn knows exactly who he is.

He just stands in the doorway and stares for so long that he doesn't realise when the song is over.

"Hi, can I help you with something?" He's turned around on his stool, looking curiously at Zayn.

"Uh, no," he stammers. "I'm just - yeah, I'm going now," he says weakly, gesturing to the corridor.

"You can stay, you know. If you like?" It's a genuine offer, even if he still looks confused by his presence.

"No, I'll just - I'll leave you to it."

He doesn't say anything, just nods kind of indulgently, and Zayn takes it as his cue to practically run back down the hallway he's just come from.

When he gets back to the empty studio, he just sinks down onto the floor and drops his head in his hands, taking deep breaths.

And it's stupid. So, so stupid. He knows that.

But then he hears the music start again, quietly at first and then building, and he just has to get out of there. So he grabs his bag and heads back to his flat, the rest of his practise be damned.

*

Liam Payne. _Liam Payne._ He was practically already a legend back in high school. Everyone and their parents knew him. Knew he'd be famous someday, that their little town would soon be known as Liam Payne's hometown, and not much else. He was only, like, seven or eight when a video of him ended up on YouTube, and got over five million views in a week. Reporters pretty much flooded the town, and he and his parents were on a couple telly shows and everything. Obviously, the media and the internet quickly moved on to other sensations but small towns have a longer memory of such things.

So, by the time he hit high school, he was already one of the most well-known kids in town.

Despite that, his time there was pretty anonymous. He was an average teenager. He could have had any friends he wanted but he settled for a few close ones, Louis, the class clown who everyone loved, and Niall, the easygoing underachiever. Maybe some people thought they were unlikely companions, that he should be hanging out with the top jocks and the star academics, but Liam ignored them. He had a couple girlfriends over the years, but none were ever very serious, and he and Danielle split amicably when they went to different universities.

Of course, Liam was headed to the best performing arts school in the country.

Zayn knows all of this because everyone knows all of this.

And also because he somehow ended up at the same school.

*

It was the best day of his parents' lives when he got in. And one of the best days of his, although he's hoping he'll have a lot of even better ones in the future.

They tell him he has a natural gift, one only a few people have. But natural gifts still need work, and Zayn's pretty rough. He's been dancing for years, but a lot of that has been in friends' basements or in the back of the high school where people would cut to smoke or make out. It's a lot of freestyling, and it's fresh and unique, but he still still needs some technical reinforcement. And versatility, the recruiter had said. Zayn likes to roll his eyes when he recalls the use of the word, but he'd understood. So he'd agreed to it, to learning about ballet and modern dance (although he's still kind of ambivalent about the tights). The more tools in his skill set, the better, anyway. And Zayn, Zayn wants to be a star. He wants to be huge, wants to be in music videos, and performing at the Brits, and he wants to do what he loves and be successful at it.

He feels really lucky just to have that chance.

His parents are proud of him no matter what. The school knows what he's about and what he can do, and he's confident he can meet any challenge they throw at him. There isn't a lot of pressure on him from anyone else. Only the pressure from himself.

*

Harry's kind of the exact opposite of what Zayn thought he (and everyone else) would be when he got here. So, yeah, he's an actor, and he likes reading Russian literature and drinking too much black coffee and wearing too many scarves, but he's also a really decent guy. 

Almost too decent in fact. Because he keeps trying to set Zayn up with people he's studying theatre with, and Zayn really doesn't need another high-maintenance drama queen in his life. When he says this, Harry usually throws whatever he's reading at him. If he's lucky, it's a script and not a thousand-page Tolstoy. 

Harry doesn't date much himself. Between studying lines and rehearsal and whatever convoluted research he deems necessary to a role and sleeping and meditating and sitting around in coffee shops looking cool, he doesn't really have the time. And he always says he's "looking for that one guy." And then he fails to elaborate and gets lost in thought or his notes or the smell of coffee brewing or whatever. Zayn knows better than to ask.

When he comes out of his weird states, he asks rapid-fire questions about Zayn's life.

This unfortunately happens the morning after he sees Liam at the piano.

"How's school? Getting much practise in? You came in late last night," he says, not giving him a chance to actually answer.

"It's...fine," he responds, typically noncommittal.

"What's fine?" Harry narrows his eyes as if spotting a weak spot in some complex cover-up scheme. He's probably been watching too much Sherlock, carefully analysing every subtle twitch of Benedict Cumberbatch's face in slow-motion.

"Whatever you just asked."

"I asked a lot of things. But you were responding to the question about last night."

"It wasn't a question," Zayn points out.

"But still. What happened last night?" Harry's good at cutting to the chase, he'll give him that.

He just starts talking before he can stop himself.

"Remember that kid, like ten years ago, the piano prodigy? He was, like, a nationwide sensation? They used to do follow-up stories on him in the news and stuff like every year?"

"Oh, yeah, Liam something, right? Doesn't he go to the academy now too? I heard someone talking about him during our first week."

"Liam Payne, yeah," Zayn breathes out.

"So, what's the deal with him?" Harry asks, looking only mildly concerned by Zayn's change in expression.

"I went to high school with him."

"Seriously? Okay... I still don't get it." He's getting really impatient now.

Zayn decides he's just going to spit it out then and there. Just going to spit out something he's hidden for more than ten years and never told another soul.

"I've kind of been in love with him since I was eight?" Zayn says, his voice getting kind of embarrassingly high at the end. He thinks he's more likely than not blushing too.

"Oh. Oh." Harry's eyes get really wide.

"Yeah."

"Wow," he says, in a low drawl.

"Yeah."

"So, like, you still... even now?" He sounds like he can't even imagine harbouring feelings for someone for that long.

"Yes." It has to be pretty fucked-up to admit, but it feels true. After all this time. After denying it, and repressing it, and trying so, so hard to get over it.

"So... important question. Have you ever actually spoken to him?"

"Um, about five times? Once I was blocking the door to the loo and he said 'excuse me' and once he asked me what the time was and -"

"Oh, Zayn." He actually looks kind of heartbroken on his behalf. The emotion he can see on his face is pretty much exactly what he's felt every day for years.

"I get it now," he says a couple moments later, the sad-puppy look replaced by a kind of softer, weary sadness.

"You get what?"

"You. You're damaged," he says simply.

And it's not fair, really. That that's all love does. 

*

Zayn tells him all about it, about high school and how they ran in different crowds and he thought he'd get past it, he really did, but then he got into the academy and Liam was right there, again, he would be _right there_ , and he wouldn't know anything. He wouldn't even know Zayn. And that hurts more than anything.

"I mean, it's so fucking stupid. I don't even _know_ him. Not really, I mean."

"I think you do," Harry says, cryptically.

"Are you going to tell me or do I have to wait for the movie to come out?"

"No, it's just. You've been watching him for years. From afar, granted, but you've been watching in a way no one else has. It's like - it's like the way a director stages a scene." And Zayn knew he was going to descend into acting metaphors at some point but he decides to bear with him. "They do it in the best way to highlight certain things. And you - you've been looking for reasons to love him for ten years. And apparently you found a lot."

"But I can't -" Zayn says, struggling to get the words out. "I can't go on like this anymore."

"No," Harry agrees. "You can't."

"So what do I do?"

Harry looks at him like he's about to give him the worst news of his life. He even reaches out to put a hand on his arm.

"You have to talk to him."

*

He decides he's going to wait until the next week when he's sure Liam will be practising late again.

This time, he lingers in the hallway, pacing, psyching himself out a little. He almost just turns around and walks right out of the building again. But this thing - it's kind of been eating away at bits of his life, and his sanity, for so long. And he just needs some relief. Even if it's complete rejection. At least it'll be done. And then he can start over.

So when he hears the music stop, he just walks right in.

Liam's rearranging his sheet music, but looks up when Zayn's suddenly looming over him.

"Oh, hey," he says, just a little startled. "It's you again."

Zayn laughs nervously despite himself. He supposes he should start from the beginning.

"Yeah, sorry about that by the way. I was just practising down the hall and I heard the music -"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine," Liam says, smiling kind of knowingly. "I mean, I didn't actually think you were stalking me or anything..."

"No," Zayn says, too quickly, almost defensive. "God. No, I'm not. I swear."

"Yeah, I got that." He looks far too amused by Zayn's discomfort. And this was probably a really, really bad idea. He's about to start backing away towards the door when...

"We went to high school together, didn't we? You're Zayn." It's like he's made some kind of invisible connection between his strange behaviour and that fact.

"Yeah, I didn't think - I didn't think you knew me."

"I, um," and Liam's suddenly looking uncomfortable too. "I kind of looked you up? I mean, I heard you got in here..." His cheeks are really pink now, and it's actually pretty adorable. Zayn feels kind of disgusted with himself.

"Yeah, I mean, it's understandable, right?" He doesn't mention the fact that no one would ever have to look up Liam, because everyone knows everything about Liam.

"Yeah, I guess sometimes you just need familiarity. A little piece of home." And it's doesn't make any sense. Liam doesn't even know Zayn. And Zayn can't imagine that he hasn't already made loads of friends. But then he looks, really looks, the way he hasn't been able to because he's been so close, too close, and he sees it. Sees the bags under his eyes that aren't just from his late-night sessions. The unusual slump of his shoulders over the keys. The wistful look in his eyes as he talks about home.

And Zayn can't help the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

"Um, do you want to, I don't know, maybe get coffee sometime or something?"

He gives him a real smile, eyes crinkling. "Yeah, that'd be great."

*

It's only later when he's sitting on his bed staring at Liam's number on his phone when it registers that it actually happened.

And that it's probably not going to be anything like he's imagined.

*

He's brushing his teeth when Harry barges in the door.

"Jesus. Learn to knock."

"Oh, come on, you're not even doing anything interesting."

"So?" he asks after a pause, looking eagerly at Zayn's reflection in the mirror, and Zayn swears he's probably going to start jumping up and down in a second. He's like a dog being tempted with a bone that's always just out of his reach.

"So what?" Zayn says, enjoying torturing him for just a while longer.

"So how did it go, you asshole?"

"I got his number," Zayn says casually.

"Yes!" Harry yells out and proceeds to do a ridiculous dance around the tiny bathroom. 

When he finally contains himself, he perches on the counter next to the sink, staring intently at Zayn.

"So, were you right? Is he everything you thought?"

"He's amazing," Zayn replies simply.

Harry just smiles contentedly at him.

*

It's one of Harry's really hip places. Zayn doesn't ever really feel like he belongs there, so it's really just to make an impression. He knows Liam can practically fit in anywhere he goes.

He tries not to get there too early so he won't have a lot of time to panic. He's only just sat at a table when Liam comes in. 

"Hi," he says, giving him a quick smile. "Cool place."

"My roommate practically lives here," Zayn explains.

"Really? So where's he?"

"Oh, he doesn't come out until dark. He's like an owl."

Liam chuckles, and Zayn mentally crosses off "make Liam laugh" from his list of life goals.

*

It's actually really easy to talk to him after he gets over the initial jitters. It doesn't even feel like date, if that's really what it is, or a big deal or anything. They just talk about people back home, their families, how the academy's treating them so far.

When Zayn makes fun of their old Math teacher, Liam giggles for ages, and afterwards he looks more relaxed than any of the times Zayn's seen him recently - not since graduation, really.

Then, they get to discussing their programmes. 

"I've never actually seen you dance before," Liam says, and he sounds kind of disappointed by that fact, although Zayn can scarcely imagine why.

"It was kind of a spur of the moment thing - to audition," Zayn says. "I didn't think I had a chance in hell, really. It was just something I did for fun up until that."

"I'd really like to see you," Liam says, and it's so earnest that Zayn starts getting a little nervous again.

"You should - I mean, if you want to come, our recital's at the end of November."

"I wouldn't miss it. We have one in a couple weeks."

"Oh, is that what you've been practising for?" Like he hasn't seen the flyers up around campus recently. Like he hasn't marked his calendar.

"Yeah, I guess." He sounds kind of frustrated just talking about it.

"I'm sure you'll be great when the time comes." He has to bite his tongue before he adds, _You always are._

"It's not - It's just. Sometime I miss not have an end purpose, you know? When it was just about enjoying it." It comes out bitter, jaded, and that's something Zayn's never associated with Liam, ever.

And Zayn actually doesn't know what that's like at all. He still enjoys everything he does, everyday. He's never felt the pressure Liam's had on him for so many years. 

And maybe Liam's always been kind of weighted down by all of it, the attention and the expectation. He's just been good at hiding it. And maybe Harry's wrong. Maybe Zayn really doesn't know him at all.

*

They part ways outside the cafe, and Liam smiles at him and says it was nice catching up. Even though it's more like, _It was nice meeting you. For real._

Zayn nods, says, "Well, I'll see you around."

"Um, yeah, maybe we can hang out again sometime?" And it's a real request. Not one of those polite things you say after awkward dates that both parties know isn't genuine.

"Yeah, okay. I'd like that." He's pretty sure his heart is beating faster than is probably considered healthy.

Liam smiles again before giving him a half-wave and heading back in the direction of his dorm.

When Zayn's on his way to his flat, he texts Harry, _second date likely?_ and just gets a row of exclamation marks in return.

He smiles at his phone in the dark.

*

He lays in bed late the next morning, and it's Saturday so he can idle, but he's just staring up and the ceiling and thinking.

He waits until he's in the kitchen with Harry to completely freak out though.

"I went on a date with Liam. I went on a date with Liam," he keeps saying. 

"Breathe, love. Breathe," Harry says, grabbing his shoulders.

He forsakes his usual coffee and makes tea for them both instead, sits Zayn down at the table, and makes him drink it. (And okay, sometimes Harry does a great impression of his mum.)

"Wow," Zayn says.

"Yeah," Harry agrees.

"I kind of wish I had a time machine so I could go back and tell myself that it would work out."

"God, you're so pathetic, Malik. It's sickening but also kind of adorable."

He thinks about punching him in the shoulder but settles for grabbing a bunch of his curls and pulling them over his eyes, obscuring his view.

"Oh, come on, I had the whole is-actually-bedhead-but-looks-like-fake-bedhead down so good today," he whines before he runs off to fix his hair in a mirror.

*

Liam actually comes to pick him up for their second date.

He's just gotten back from class, running late, when Liam calls to finalise their movie plans. So he decides to come wait for him at the flat instead while Zayn gets ready.

He kind of thinks about gagging and tying up Harry in his room, because when he starts talking, he has a tendency to not shut up for a long time and, in that time, divulge all kinds of details he really shouldn't.

It's kind of hard to shower and change (and try to look decent at the same time) while you're straining to hear if your roommate is casually telling your date that you've been creepily obsessed with him since you were eight.

When he comes out though, they're both sitting on the carpet, Indian-style, eyes closed, and Harry's talking to him soothingly. Liam looks really into it, breathing deeply and nodding when Harry gives him tips to get the most out of the meditative state.

Zayn doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

*

They see a really bad comedy, but Zayn enjoys it because it's not one of those ridiculous arthouse films Harry usually drags him to, and because Liam finds the stupidest things funny and he likes hearing him laugh. It's like music too, but it doesn't need an instrument to get out of him. 

Zayn kind of wants to rest his head against his chest, feel the vibration, hear the sound echo through his body too. He wants to lap it up with his hands, taste it with his mouth, let all the music within Liam pour right into him.

Zayn doesn't know how it happens, but somehow Liam's arm is brushing his on the armrest and instead of moving it away, he just rests his fingers lightly on top of Zayn's. Zayn looks across at him, but he's still staring straight in front of him at the screen.

They kind of tap against his hand sometimes, almost a reflex, all by themselves, even though Liam is perfectly still, like they're following their own song. Like they're relaying some unconscious message in Morse code. Like they want to touch more than piano keys. Like Zayn's skin is the instrument they want to play instead.

*

When they walk down the street after, their hands touch on occasion. And he'd think it was accidental if he didn't know for sure it wasn't.

*

Zayn drops face down on the couch as soon as he walks into the flat.

"I think he's actually trying to drive me crazy," he says. 

Harry just nods sympathetically.

*

They hang out a lot over the next couple weeks, but it's all still pretty innocent, and Zayn starts wondering if it really was all in his head, if he'd deluded himself from the beginning because of his stupid, ridiculous pining for him, and Liam really just wanted a friend. Harry tells him again and again that's he being an idiot, that Liam is clearly interested, and he just nods, like he believes him.

More and more though, he starts thinking that maybe it doesn't matter. He likes spending time with Liam, even if it's just watching movies at his flat while Harry makes snide comments in the background about the actors or writing or whatever.

There's this time though, when they're all alone, and totally exhausted from rehearsing all day (especially Liam, whose hours have become even more intense as his recital draws closer), and when Zayn wakes up, Liam is sleeping with his head on his shoulder. He almost has a bit of a freakout, but he doesn't dare move, just wraps an arm around Liam's body instead.

When he wakes up, he seems to slowly realise where he is, and he looks so comfortable and content for a moment.

He just looks up at Zayn, and he swears something's going to happen, but then Liam's pulling away again, disentangling himself and saying he has to go. He hardly even looks at Zayn as he leaves.

He thinks maybe Liam isn't so sure about what Zayn wants from this either. And it's so frustrating, that he can't really tell him everything, that he couldn't tell him a long time ago.

*

They don't talk a lot after that, but Liam calls him to ask if he's going to be at the recital the day before, and he says, yes, definitely, because he wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Liam sounds happy about that anyway.

*

He's amazing, because he's always amazing. But it's different too, now, because he knows Liam. He knows how hard he works and how much he cares about what he does. He knows the way he talks about it, the passion in his voice. He knows how genuinely he wants to make his family proud. He knows that despite how hard it is to have that spotlight on you, waiting for you to be great or waiting for you to disappoint, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He knows Liam now, and he knows what every single note means to him.

*

He jumps to his feet with the rest of the audience when the music stops. He can see Liam's parents in the front row, huge smiles on their faces, applauding the hardest. 

Liam steps forward to take a bow, blows a kiss to his parents, gives a wave to the audience, and even through all the noise and excitement, Zayn swears that Liam's eyes find his amongst the crowd.

*

After the recital, Zayn knows there'll be a lot of people for him to talk to, a lot of congratulations and photos and probably even interviews. He doesn't go backstage, doesn't try to find him. He heads out into the cool nighttime air instead. There are a few clusters of people just outside the entrance, milling around and chatting about the show. He keeps walking beyond them.

He gets a text after about fifteen minutes to meet him in the car park.

It's after most of the people have left when Liam finally emerges.

He walks up to him, looking tired but so happy, and this is how Zayn will always picture him. Not intense and focused during a performance, but after, when you can tell how much he loves doing it. When you can tell how much he loves life and art and music and getting to share it with other people.

"Aren't you going to tell me how great I was?" he jokes.

Zayn just does it without thinking. He reaches up and places his hands on the sides of Liam's face. He brings his lips to Liam's forehead slowly, and Liam just goes so, so still against him. 

"You were amazing," he says softly without pulling away.

Zayn takes his time withdrawing his arms, trying to make the moment last, and Liam's still so close to him he can feel his breathing against his neck.

When he starts moving away, one of Liam's hands wraps itself around his wrist. And he finally looks up at him, like he's checking to see if this is okay. And there's something in his eyes he hasn't ever seen before. It's a frightened sort of expectation. Zayn thinks he's probably felt it so many times but he's never shown it. Not until now. Not until he thought Zayn could keep that feeling safe.

Zayn gives him the briefest nod, reassurance, and then his lips are on Zayn's. They just kind of exhale against each other's mouths before they kiss properly, one of Liam's hands coming up to rest on his neck, the other entangling with Zayn's own against his thigh.

Zayn doesn't kiss him like he's been waiting for this forever. He kisses him like Liam's all he needs in that one moment. Like this is the only thing he could ever be doing right then and there. Like it's the only right thing.

It's not the culmination of anything. It's just the beginning.

*

Liam takes his hand and drags him back inside to meet his parents. It's less surreal than it should feel. It feels natural, familiar. Maybe because Liam holds his hand throughout the entire thing and stares at him when he's speaking like there's no one else in the world.

He walks Liam back to his dorm room, and there's a ridiculous kiss in the doorway that makes him feel his life has suddenly turned into some kind of cheesy romantic comedy.

*

Harry's actually waiting up for him when he gets back.

"I knew it!" he exclaims, as soon as he walks through the door. "You totally got some."

"I did not," Zayn protests. 

"You totally did. Tell me everything."

He shifts over to make room on the couch, and Zayn sits down with a sigh.

"We made out in the car park and then I had an awkward meet-the-parents moment and I pretty much feel like I'm thirteen years old again," he says, all in one breath.

Harry's kind of grinning like an idiot at him though.

And maybe he starts to grin back a little.

*

It's kind of odd how normal the whole thing is, really. They get lunch together whenever they can, sometimes joined by Harry and his theatre geeks, sometimes by Liam's musician friends. Sometimes they just end up making out in unoccupied classrooms. They schedule coinciding nighttime rehearsals and watch each other during their respective breaks. Sometimes Zayn crashes at Liam's when he's too tired to walk back to the flat. 

It becomes an easy part of their routines, spending time together, going out for dinner or to the cinema, plays, recitals, exhibits. Liam's an appreciator of all kinds of art, but it's not a pretentious interest. It's a pure, genuine enjoyment, and Zayn admires that. It kind of inspires him to look at things differently himself.

Zayn's always loved Liam's music, but Liam feels the same way about so many things, and they're all special because they're special to him.

*

It's only after Harry's play opens and they go out to celebrate and he asks Zayn to tell him how amazing he was no less than twenty times that Zayn walks Liam back to his dorm, and they just linger silently in the doorway before Liam takes his hand and tells him they're not doing the whole goodnight kiss routine this time before he pulls him into the room.

*

It's the morning after, lying in bed with him, when he presses a kiss to his hair and just breathes him in for a second, eyes shut, so, so close to him. And he's not observing anymore; he's not constantly checking his own actions, Liam's responses to them. He's not on the outside of it anymore. And he wants to say it. He wants to tell him that he loves him, that he loves him after three months of movie dates, and talking, and Liam's hand covering his on the piano keys, and his chin on Zayn's shoulder, arms around his waist, swaying to a song only they could hear, and not years of watching and wanting and not knowing. And that's the easy part, the not knowing, the not doing. He's glad though, so, so glad that he took the risk.

He doesn't say anything, and when Liam looks at him after, he thinks maybe he was waiting for something too.

*

Harry and Liam sit in the front row at his recital, right by his parents. It's kind of wonderful to look out at all of them, and think about how far he's come, all he's accomplished, all he's going to in the future. 

He's never felt more proud of himself, never felt so much like he was exactly where he's supposed to be.

His mum actually wipes away some tears before he hugs her and his dad. Harry actually doesn't say anything inappropriate in their presence, and Liam...Liam just beams at him over their shoulders, looking more content than he's ever seen him.

When they're finally alone, back in his flat, Harry already gone off to get his beauty sleep, Liam wraps his arms around his waist and presses him up against the kitchen counter.

"I don't think I've ever been more attracted to you," he whispers, breath hot on his ear.

"Seriously? Was it the tights? Do you have a kink?" Zayn teases.

"It was everything," Liam says seriously, pulling back slightly to look at him.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah, it was beautiful. _You_ were beautiful."

Liam kisses him like he wants Zayn to believe it, he wants him to know just how much he does mean it.

When they pull away, breathing hard, the words almost fall out. It almost happens again. But he drags them back in, tucks them away where they've always been.

It's too soon. It's way, way overdue, but still too soon.

*

The rest of the semester goes by really fast after that. They're all riding out highs, having gotten great reviews, from their instructors and even the public (Liam gets a blurb in the local paper, and although it's not entirely surprising, he admits it feels really good). And maybe Zayn was a bit unsure at first, if it was the right fit, if he could really do it, but he is sure now. He has the support, and he has the motivation, and he doesn't think anything can stop him. It's going to be great. He knows it.

Around the end of term, Louis and Niall come up to visit Liam.

They all go out for drinks, Zayn bringing along Harry. It's kind of weird at first, because although Liam's told them about him, it's all been pretty sudden and they've both been so disconnected from their old lives. He supposes people generally go to college to meet new people and not to start new relationships with people they sort of knew before. But he and Niall had a couple classes together, and Louis knows and is known by everyone at their high school, so it gets better after the first few awkward "So, how exactly did _this_ happen?" questions. Also, the alcohol helps. A lot.

Harry and Louis actually hit it off amazingly well, and in hindsight, Zayn should have seen this coming. And then prevented it at all costs.

They get really, really drunk and end up practically sitting in each other's laps while Louis tells wild stories about incidents from high school (usually involving Liam trying to talk them out of it, unsuccessfully, of course). Liam shakes his head and winces at the really embarrassing parts, and Zayn just smiles at him in an equal combination of fondness and amusement. Niall just laughs hysterically at every word, which he is apparently apt to do when he drinks.

*

When they decide to go back to their flat, it's about three in the morning.

As soon as they get inside, Liam takes his hand and leads him down the hall to his bedroom, leaving the rest of them to their own devices. 

They're followed by catcalls that they choose to ignore, because they all know nothing's actually going to happen with the rest of them right outside the room.

They're content to just lie facing each other, still dressed, on Zayn's tiny bed.

"Why didn't we ever hang out before?" Liam asks, like it's a natural continuation of some other conversation.

And it's weird, how they've been talking around this, consciously or not, since they first went out.

"I don't know," Zayn says. "You know how high school is."

And Liam looks actually confused by that. Because it's not like they were in any strict cliques or anything. They both just had a small group of friends that didn't really intersect. That's the simple answer.

"I thought you were really cool, you know," Liam says, like it's some huge secret.

"You're kidding."

"No," Liam says, shaking his head. "Everyone did."

Zayn actually thinks that's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard, much less from Liam Payne, that he kind of starts laughing wildly at it. 

Liam lets out a surprised laugh too at his reaction.

"I'm not cool at all," he says. "Trust me."

"I think you're wonderful," Liam says quietly, and he kisses him softly, body pressed up against his.

*

They talk a lot, halfway in between sleeping and waking. When Liam finally dozes off, Zayn kisses his cheek and closes his eyes too.

*

It's only about two hours after when they drift awake again.

There are the sounds of pots and pans clanging together coming from the kitchen along with Harry and Louis' laughter and the occasional shushing noise. Niall's probably still asleep on the couch where they left him.

"We should probably go outside before they destroy the flat," Liam says sleepily.

"Yeah," Zayn agrees, kissing the top of his head, but they still don't get out of bed for a while.

*

Harry yanks Zayn down the hallway and into the bathroom as soon as he emerges from his room.

He locks the door behind them both.

"Have you talked to him?" he demands.

"We've been talking all night."

"Really? About what?" he asks, eyebrows narrowing.

"All kinds of things."

"And was one of those things your undying love for him?" Harry says loudly.

"Keep your voice down," Zayn warns him. "And no, I didn't tell him. I can't tell him. It's too soon."

"I think he needs to know. He needs to know exactly what he's getting himself into."

"It'll just scare him away," Zayn argues.

"Maybe. And maybe it won't. Maybe he's better than that. But he has to know if you're really going to have something."

Zayn sighs heavily.

"Why is it so important? We're together. And it's going well. I don't see -"

"You _know_ why it's important. You have to tell him so you're back on the same level. You have to tell him so you can let go of your romanticised version of him and fall in love with the real Liam."

"You know, you make far too much sense sometimes."

"I know," Harry says without pausing. "It's kind of my superpower."

"Thanks," Zayn says, and they both know what it means.

"No problem."

He's grabbing the doorknob when Harry says, "Wait."

"What?"

"While we're in here... I think he could be it."

"Who could be what?" Zayn asks, mystified.

"Louis. He could be the guy."

"Seriously? You just met him."

"And? You were in love with a guy for ten years before you even had a proper conversation."

"Okay, point taken."

*

When they come out, Louis and Niall are already in the kitchen wolfing down pancakes. Harry goes to join them. Liam's on the couch watching some cartoon. Zayn sits down next to him, and Liam's arm automatically comes around his shoulders.

A few moments later Liam laughs at something on the screen that only five-year-olds should find funny.

And Zayn realises just how much he wants this. Not the fantasy he created, not the perfect, brilliant Liam from his dreams, but the real Liam, the one who's a little bit awkward but so kind, who tells corny jokes and acts like everyone's dad, who feels like he needs to take care of people but can let Zayn take care of him sometimes too. The one he's been learning about and falling in love with for the last couple months. He needs him here and right next to him. Always.

One more day, he thinks. He just needs one more day of this before he potentially ruins all of it.

*

They're sitting on a bench under a tree outside the academy. They met for lunch and decided to have a walk after, Liam taking his hand and Zayn trying not to start shaking under his touch, and they ended up here. Liam looks like he's about to fall asleep, the cool breeze blowing over them, birds singing above their heads.

He's pretty sure he's dozed off but then his voice comes through, strong and sure. "So, what were you and Harry talking about last night?"

"Um, you," he says, because he's done lying, to himself, his heart, to other people.

"Yeah, I got that. I feel like he knows more about us than I do." His tone's not angry, just kind of sad.

"I just - I told him a lot of things. Things I've never told anyone. Because I had to."

"Can you tell me?" Liam asks in a whisper.

Zayn just takes a deep breath and starts talking.

"I remember the first time I saw you play. For real. That wasn't for show or TV cameras or anything. It was at a school recital. You were about thirteen, I think. And I got so smashed that night with a couple guys who lived on my street. But I went to see you anyway. It was like halfway through your performance and somehow I ended up stumbling backstage. And I just...watched you. And you were the clearest thing I'd ever seen or heard. And then I went out back and threw up in a ditch."

Liam laughs.

"I almost told you the next morning," Zayn says, and he has to muster every bit of courage left in him to go on.

"Told me what?"

"That you made me think I could do anything. And that you scared the shit out of me. And that you were the only thing in my life that I was sure about. And you made me want to be sure about other things."

"Zayn..." Liam says, not breaking eye contact.

"Don't say you're sorry," Zayn says softly. "It's not your fault. I should have told you. I should have told you everything a long time ago."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know," and he realises for the first time that he really doesn't have a reason. "I guess I thought that would make it more real, you know? And real means there's something to break."

Liam's holding his hand now. He just sighs before he gently rests his head on Zayn's shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Zayn says, suddenly apprehensive.

"That I want this to be real," Liam whispers. "I want us to be real."

Zayn keeps their hands entwined, but turns his head to press a kiss to Liam's forehead. 

"It's always been real," he says against his skin.

Liam nods slowly, and they just stay like that for a long while, letting each other know it's true. It's the truest thing they know.


End file.
